


Inspector Lyf Rights!

by CertifiedPissWizard



Series: Inspector Lyf rights! The Saga [1]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Gen, Inspector Lyf rights!, affectionate bullying, copious mentions of musical numbers, i tried at the beginning to be a serious author and then i gave up, let the ex space tsa agent take a nap, nb characters, no dialogue tags because im not a coward and also, no editing we die over and over again like the mechs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CertifiedPissWizard/pseuds/CertifiedPissWizard
Summary: *The rights to get bullied, live, and maybe fall in love??
Series: Inspector Lyf rights! The Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647052
Comments: 29
Kudos: 140
Collections: Stowaways' Shenanigans





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm here I'm queer I'm on some brand new bullshit and i finally remembered my ao3 password send tweet

They leave, the inspector does, after leaving their files behind. They climb into their ship and launch themself into the inky blackness, and they run. They go to the mining colony, refuel, keep going, keep running and running and running and running and then their ship gives out. It gives out, and Ex-Inspector Lyfrassier Edda sits in the starlight and breathes. It's been three years since they left the Ygdrassil System. They could have stopped any time within the past two and been safe for the rest of their life, but the thing is, maybe it was from telling the story of the bifrost incident into their tapes, maybe it was the stories they heard other people tell in bits and pieces, but something about stories clawed its way into their chest. Finding them, hearing them, telling them. It wasn't intentional, wasn't a choice to keep moving, seeking out places that seemed interesting. It just was a fact.

Their ship is dead, and they are drifting alone in the starlight with so many stories curled in their chest from the past three years. Then they see it. A ship. Large, vaguely web like, annoyingly familiar. They don't want to hail the ship, but they want to die even less than they want to interact with the Mechanisms. They proceed to solve this issue by firing a shot off the bow. It preserves their dignity in the face of assholes who they despise, and it also serves as an attempt to get attention and aid. Also, if they die despite or because of this they'll die knowing that they did what they could have done, and they'll also die Mechanisms interaction free.

There is silence, a nonresponse, and then strands thin as spidersilk come spilling out of the ship, attatching to their vessel and pulling it in. "Damn. I was half hoping that they wouldn't respond." They sigh, then go to grab a granola bar. They'll need their bloodsugar to be higher to deal with this, to deal with them. They look for a while at the flavors before grabbing one with dried cranberries. They've never really liked dried cranberries, but, they figure, as they take the first bite of the granola bar, it really fits the day's mood. That's something that they can't help but appreciate. They end up getting to consume too many of those godawful granola bars as they wait for their ship to be consumed by the Aurora.

It was interesting to watch, the cables slowly pulling them in to the opening hatch. They'd had the impression from the files that the Aurora was a lot smaller. As it is, though, it's like watching a spider eat a fly from the flies point of view. If the fly was a spaceship that had guns, and the spider was another, bigger, gunwielding spaceship. Lyf makes a point of valuing the 10 seconds of silence they have after finishing the first granola bar. It was a very good ten seconds, and then they get hailed, ruining those very good ten seconds.

They, very reluctantly, answer the call. "Ah, Inspector-" von Raum. Lyf considers asking to just be left to die alone in space.

"Not anymore, von Raum." Lyf puts a great deal of thought into the idea. It was one with definite merit.

"Alright, Former Inspector Lyf." Lyf wonders if the cables were messing with their ship's airlock or if they'd be able to step out of it.

"Wow. That's almost worse. Thank you very much."

"Commander Lyf, then." Lyf finds themself filled with regret and mediocre granola bars.

"No."

"Lyftenant." Lyf's soul is fleeing their body. It is fleeing their body and then they- "President Lyf."

"Now you're just making up words." Maybe if they are deadpan enough they will be released from this torture.

"No, Inspector Lyf, this would be making up words-" They aren't sure whether they tune out what von Raum is saying or if he catches the dead look in their eyes and decides to take mercy. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again.” They do not say that that was the plan, because that would be a rude thing to say to the people who were pulling their ship in from the vacuum of space, even though those people definitely deserve it.

“I didn’t expect to be seeing any of you again, either.” They hoped that they wouldn’t have to see any of them again. Given how they also expected the Yggdrasil system to not be consumed by one of the elder gods from beyond the edges of reality, however, they should have grown used to things that they expected not happening.

“So how are you doing on this fine space morning, Former Inspector Lyf?” Lyf closes their eyes in exasperation.

“It’s not even morning, so jot that down. I am doing fine, though. You?” They would say that they weren’t paid enough for this, but they don’t have a job anymore. Actually, they decide suddenly, they won’t let that stop them.

“I am doing fine.” A moment of joyous silence. Hallelu- “So, Former Inspector. How have you spent the past few years?” Lyf ponders screaming and hanging up. It is a tempting concept. Very tempting. At least there isn’t any singing.

“Oh, you know, traveling.” They steel themself. “You?”

“Thank you for asking, Former Inspector,” _oh no oh no,_ “Weeelll, like whiskey laced with-“


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow Lyf manages to make it through the 12 hours it takes for his ship to be pulled in without having some form of mental breakdown. They feel remarkably proud of themself for that fact, which they have every reason to believe they should be proud of themselves for after they were forcibly exposed to six straight hours of songs. Six. Whole. Hours. At the end of the six straight hours of musical numbers Lyf doesn’t want to grind their teeth as much, having grown numb to it in an attempt to protect themself. Six. Hours. They break out the good granola bars as little a treat.

They spend the six hours after that pacing and reading and playing their theremin some and wondering if it’s too late to back out from having to deal with the mechs. On the one hand, dying alone in the void of space has little appeal, and on the other hand, having to deal with Alexandria, la Cognizi, and von Raum is the opposite of appealing. Not that they have much choice in the matter, because their ship is very firmly caught within the cables. Their ship is also entirely without a working engine, but that is beside the point. In fact, it is so far beside the point that it only counts as beside the point if you count an object three lightyears away from the point as being beside it.

So they have six hours to recover from a six hour long musical number, and they feel the shuddering of their ship as it finally gets swallowed up by the Aurora. They let out a shuddering sigh. Time to, to use a figure of speech that they despise, face the music. They take a short moment to swear internally for not scripting out what they were going to say so that the conversation would be short as possible. Ideally it would also cut down some on the bullying that they were pretty sure they’d receive, but given as how scripting interactions with the mechs hadn’t worked in the past re: avoiding that, it was just as well that they hadn’t put in the effort. Now any awkwardness in the conversation would be so organic they could make a fortune selling it at Space Whole Foods.

They open the airlock and, much to their lack of surprise, they see, “von Raum.”

“Ah, Former Inspector Lyf.” They regret this. They regret so much. They regret everything. Maybe they could have stayed in the Yggdrasil. They could have settled down with a nice squamous being from beyond the edges of our sane reality. Maybe they and their nice eldritch spouse could have gotten a house with a rainbow picket fence, some sort of insane version of a space dog, adopted some many tentacled children. It would have been better than having to deal with von Raum. “Welcome aboard the Auror-“von Raum falls to the ground, having been shot.

“Jonny D’ville, your humble captain.” The person who shot von Raum bows. “Welcome aboard the Aurora.” _Shit_ , Lyf thinks. _There are more of them._


	3. Chapter 3

“What the fuck?” Lyf has had it. They are at their limit. Their solar system got vored by Yog Sothoth. They’re having to deal with the Mechs. There are more Mechs. One of them just killed von Raum, and the one that killed von Raum is apparently the captain of the ship. They do not get paid enough for this. They deserve to be paid for this. “You just shot someone. What the fuck?” Their voice cracks, embarrassingly reminiscent of a twelve year old boy who is defensively claiming that his voice isn’t cracking in the slightest. The realization suddenly hits them while looking at this Mech they just met that the other Mechs are apparently both worse and more murderous.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.”

“You just shot him.” They close and open their eyes a few times as though that will make the situation less awkward- given how they are both standing across the body of Lyf’s least favorite person in the world. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s the place of the captain to welcome people onto the ship.”

“First mate!” Lyf’s eyes flick to the person who just showed up in his field of vision. They proceed to shoot d’Ville. Lyf gets hit with the sudden, terrifying feeling that this will become a theme. “Ashes O’Reilly. Quartermaster.” Lyf feels distinctly menaced.

“Pronouns?” Their voice cracks.

“They/Them.”

“So did you shoot them for stealing your gender?” They immediately feel concerned for their own wellbeing, and then O’Reilly lets out a huff of laughter.

“Yeah, that’s why I shot him. You?”

“My gender was consumed by the same elder god that ate my solar system.” They smile slightly. “Which, for a rainbow-colored horror wasn’t really all that gay rights.”

“Yes, Yog Sothoth is gay. Yes, it’s homophobic.”

“It’s a god of madness so it might exist.” They did it. Lyf found the tolerable Mech. Amazing, wonderful, iconic. Yes, O’Reilly shot someone, which is objectively bad, but, they do good gender jokes and that’s what matters. “So, will they actually come back?” Lyf gestures at the bodies on the floor that they’d temporarily forgotten about while experiencing the joy of gender jokes.

“Yeah.” The silence following that is painfully awkward, in part because there are two dead bodies in the room, and in part because there are two dead bodies in the room. The fact that there are dead bodies in the room is 90% of why it’s an awkward silence. Then the silence gets broken by la Cognizi, and Lyf wishes the awkward silence would return.

“Former Inspector Lyf.” They have a feeling about this. It is not a particularly good feeling.

“la Cognizi.” They let out a most assuredly not petulant huff of air. “And how are you doing today?” If la Cognizi starts singing they will ask O’Reilly to borrow their gun. It’s morally okay if she’ll come back from the dead. They’re pretty sure that’s how morals work. They aren’t even going to attempt to apply any sort of legality to the situation, because that brings in issues of jurisdiction, and what qualifies as legally dead, and that also brings into question whether or not the word murder can even apply to someone who can’t even die, and la Cognizi is staring at them not saying anything.

“Are you done with your internal monologue?” O’Reilly shoots a look between Lyf and la Cognizi. Lyf feels personally victimized. They also roll their eyes, sigh, and nod. “A room’s been set up for you.” She smiles at them. For all the occasional talk of unethical science experiments, she always was the least annoying one of the Mechs that was in prison. “Once you grab your essentials, I’ll- “

“Show you the way to your room.” Von Raum pulls himself up off the floor. Lyf wants to scream. At least von Raum isn’t singing.

“I am capable of staying on board my ship. It’s the engine that isn’t working, not my berth.”

“But, Former Inspector Lyf, that would make us bad hosts. I heard this story of things that happen to bad hosts in the depths of space.” Von Raum pulls out a violin, personally victimizing Lyfrassir Edda once again. Lyf once again wonders if it would be immoral/illegal to kill someone that can’t actually die.

“Alright. I’ll stay in a room on your ship. Just. No musical numbers. Let me grab my things.” Maybe they can climb back into their ship and lock the door and jettison themselves back into space. It’s unlikely, but so is the idea that von Raum will go ten minutes without being obnoxious.

“I’ll help.” Lyf prays to Yog Sothoth for both strength and for von Raum to not catch sight of their theremin. That’s the last thing that they need- von Raum trying to get them to join in on impromptu musical numbers and the like.


End file.
